By mid-morning a rain as fine as silk spills was weaving over the lake.
Time passed so much more slowly than space.
God, what pathetic creatures had inherited the earth, to walk a little while with their eyes upon the stars and turn their gaze too soon upon the ground that held their feet!
I don't see as it matters much how well you mean if it's harm you're doin'.
Growing old was simply a process of drawing closer to that ultimate independence called death.
Listen - man is a child of Nature. When he turns against his mother - he's done! He may not find out about it right away, but he will.